


october & april

by elossa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elossa/pseuds/elossa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius was winter. Dominique was spring. They didn't see any of it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	october & april

**Author's Note:**

> I had a Scor/Dom plot bunny and this happens.  
> My apologies for its trashness.

Scorpius was winter. His name alone was enough to make some of the bravest shiver. His words were like rough hands smothering a person’s throat. At his best, he was a painting left untouched on a wall, its subject shrouded by soft, grey strokes. At worst he was a blizzard: an Armageddon, relentless, razing entire cities to the ground. Not even Napoleon could overcome him as he held his reign of terror. No matter how anyone attempted to predict his ferocity, his anger, how and when his tempers would flare beneath the unmoving tone of his words, they never saw it coming.

Dominique was spring. When one spoke of her, they thought of seamless rows of tulips in the Netherlands, the birth of life as lambs were born, the warmth of hot chocolate nuzzling their gullets. Her laugh made cherry blossoms bloom in Kyoto, dead animals come back to life, and sent electric shocks to the weary, reviving their senses, their agility, their will to live. The ocean lapped gently at her toes, the cold sensation washing over her body as her skin prickled. Clear skies awaited, with fluffy cumulus clouds to complete the postcard perfect landscape that was her.

They didn’t see any of it coming.

/

He never paid any attention to her until the Christmas Ball in his fourth year, and even then it was nothing more than a superficial conversation.

Scorpius had taken Rose Weasley, which surprised no one. Their constant spats had everyone on the edge of their toes: the prime example of a ‘will they won’t they’ relationship. It reached a head when he’d ruined her potion, which resulted in a late night detention. Neville Longbottom had nearly fainted when he saw Ron and Draco’s children making out fiercely against the wall. A few nights later, rumours began circulating that Scorpius and Rose are now official, evidenced by their hands brushing in the corridor, the lack of enmity in their gazes, and punctuated by her presence as his date.

There would be no question about their legibility now.

He was never enamoured with her, instead fascinated with her smart mouth and the size of her brain, how she managed to worm her way until he thought of nothing but her name before he slept. When he kissed her, he loved how she expressed little restraint at letting his hands roam all over her, how he cupped her cute little bum that were hidden carefully beneath the heavy Hogwarts robes and pressed her body close to his. He loved how she always got hot and bothered and blushed profusely when asked as to how she felt, a tell-tale sign that this was her first time experiencing lust.

Her Slytherin green dress that she wore now aimed to please. With straps as opposed to sleeves, the neckline only revealed an inch of her chocolate skin. His mother expressed distaste when a redhead wore green, calling it one of the biggest  _faux pas_  a person could commit, but on her she looked beautiful. The fabric hugged her body to a point where it shoved off the curves she’d gained in the past year, but loose enough to allow her to move as she pleased. The skirt flared out at the waist, allowing the fabric to swish as she danced gracefully with him on the floor. He was also thankful that she wore kitty heels; any higher than that and she would’ve been taller than him.

After some time dancing, she decided to spend some time with the Weasley brood, dragging him along. The prospect terrified Scorpius to no end, though he was lucky only fourth years and above were invited; he’d heard and witnessed Lily Potter’s violent outbursts enough to know not to want to be the target of one of those.

James smirked as he saw his cousin, wrapping his arms around her. Albus gave Scorpius a high-five; they had been cordial before he dated his cousin, but on Rose’s side at least, Albus considered himself instrumental in bringing the two together. The Slytherin was subsequently introduced to the rest of them: Roxanne – who he knew already as the Chaser he was always running after in Gryffindor matches – Fred, a Hufflepuff in his final year, Lucy, his housemate who he often ignored, Molly, a sixth year, and Dominique, a Ravenclaw.

There was no denying that, in Scorpius’s eyes, Dominique was the most beautifully dressed out of all of them. She lacked the Veela charms that her sister so obviously radiated, but she still possessed hair that looked like sheets of gold and flawless complexion. She had gone for something more form fitting than Rose: her neckline plunged a little, and her dress was a shade of azure that matched her eyes.

“I heard from Rosie here that you’re one hell of a dancer,” James quipped, sidling up next to the blond. “I’m guessing that’s better than Frank, I suppose, who can’t stop stepping on Albus’s feet – “

“Frank is fine,” Albus hissed. “Just because you haven’t quite gotten to the idea that your brother likes both boys  _and_  girls, that doesn’t mean that my dates are any more inadequate than yours.”

“Enough,” Dominique sighed. She turned towards Scorpius as Rose chatted with her date, Niall Finnigan. “You’re a good dancer, yeah? Is it a pureblood thing, to be educated with all that dancing and dinner etiquette and to go wild a lot? I saw a few episodes of that Muggle show  _Gossip Girl_  and I couldn’t help but have a few assumptions about high-class society.”

“Not exactly,” Scorpius replied. “There were a few Malfoy traditions my father had insisted on throwing out the window, but being cultured was not one of them.”

“Oh, so does that mean that because I can’t tell Mondrian from Dali, or Monet from Picasso, that means I’m not cultured?”

Scorpius cursed himself. “No. In my family being cultured has a very specific definition. You have to know how to dance, make small talk, so that includes knowing about art, architecture, literature. And to answer that latter point, I don’t go on wild parties. That’s Zabini’s thing, not mine.” He paused. “How can you not tell Monet from Picasso apart? One’s known for Cubism and the other is a very well-known Impressionist.”

“Of course I can,” Dominique smiled. “I guess a better comparison would be Monet from Seurat?”

“Not really.”

“You can’t really tell whether they’re strokes or dots from far away.”

“Fair point.”

A few seconds later, Rose poked him on the shoulder and asked him to dance again. He complied. They made their way to the dance floor, dancing seamlessly like flowing water in a river. He could never really pinpoint the point in time where he fell in love with Rose that night, with her laugh and unruly ginger hair, with the freckles on the bridge of her nose, her backhanded compliments, the way she’d later say those three words in his ears as they spooned in his bed later, her fingers laced with his, the gentle ups and downs of her chest reminding her this girl, for all the pieces of heaven she was, is human.

His conversation with Dominique that night lay forgotten, for it was just an exchange of words: nothing more, nothing less.

/

The stars of first love tend to burn the brightest, but the brightest stars burn the fastest.

A year did not pass before Scorpius and Rose parted ways. They had gotten to third base before they both realised they lacked chemistry there, the fire that had been present during their arguments quickly fizzling out. Despite the fact that both were very amicable about the matter, it did not stop Rose crying for nights on end; he was her first love. It did not stop Scorpius from slowly building up his defences; she was his as well. It certainly did not stop Lily from chasing after her cousin’s ex with Bat Bogey hexes, a trait she (un)fortunately inherited from her mother.

Scorpius’s walls were made of iron by the OWLs came about, more determined to pass them than ever. No one saw him outside of meals and classes, as all of his free time was spent in the library trying to memorise five years worth of learning.

When Dominique saw Scorpius this time, she could tell he had been in the library for some time. Lacking the brain capacity of his ex, that meant he was cramming in information and wand movements repetitively. Scorpius knew he was an intelligent person, but his lack of ability to memorise things had always been a problem. That was why his forte were more on things such as Charms, DADA; things that demanded one to be quick on their feet, or adapting current information to suit their own purposes.

The blonde poked him gently on the shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

Scorpius nodded, scowling at the thought of another Weasley lecturing him about his decisions. “I already said that Rose initiated the break-up, and it was  _mutual_. How many times do I have to get it in your tiny little skulls?”

Dominique’s mouth turned into a frown, creasing certain points in her face. Her reputation had always been that she was a little too naïve, not being the brightest thing in the toolbox, so it had been Scorpius’s first thought to think that she needed to be told again and again about certain things. From the look on her face, it was obvious that  _this_  was not what she came for. A twinge of guilt travelled up the Slytherin’s spine, opening his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he apologised quickly.

“I – I’m not going to judge your relationship with Rose and criticise your actions,” she replied, her eyes looking directly at his, “and I’m not going to say anything; it’s not my place.” She blushed. “I… I actually came here to ask you about... maybe teaching me a bit of Charms. Rose is feeling a bit rotten and I’d rather not bother her right now with my stupidity. She can get snappy when she’s mad, though I’m sure you know that.” She paused, quickly adding, “Money’s no object.”

Whatever was said about her IQ, her EQ startled Scorpius. Even more guilt built up in him about judging her. He knew the Weasleys were a protective bunch, all dedicated to shielding each other from atomic bombs, but he forgot that they were people outside of their family. They had their own motives, their own goals, aspirations, their Boggarts, things they’d smell in Amortentia. His guilt slowly turned into a pleasant feeling of surprise. No one had ever asked him for help, thinking that he slacked off in most classes because he had the entire Malfoy fortune to look forward to when he finished school. He frankly had no clue how Dominique knew how he cared so deeply about certain subjects. He remembered that what Rose knew of people, all the Weasley clan knew too.

“I don’t mind helping,” Scorpius finally replied, “and no, I don’t want any money from it.”

Dominique frowned. “Well, I thought that with your grades, you would’ve made a business out of your mind right now. That’s what Lucy would’ve done.”

“Do I look like Lucy to you?”

She laughed, sitting down next to him. He observed how it rang like chimes that rang as the breeze blew outside his Indonesian bungalow. It was a pretty sound, with a pitch that wasn’t high enough to enough, but not too low as to remind him of his ex. Honestly, her laugh was as nice as she was. “Well, no,” she replied, “and I’m wrong to say if the reason I said that is because you’re both Slytherin, but I thought you’d be more cunning, charging me several Galleons for an hour of reading the textbook and explaining it bit by bit to me like I’m some sort of dummy.”

“If we’re going by stereotypes here, why are you asking me for help if you’re a Ravenclaw?”

“Not all Ravenclaws have knowledge instead of blood, or wisdom instead of nerves. We’re all normal people… or normal-ish. And intelligence does not always lie in being book smart. If I have to pick the one reason I was sorted here is probably because I like art. I like drawing it, looking at it. I live and breathe it. I’m a Ravenclaw because I happen to be creative.”

Scorpius bobbed his head. He blinked, trying to stave off the fatigue in his eyelids. “Fair point, and if you want help, I’ll give it to you. What do you want help with?”

She opened her mouth to reply, tilting her head when she realised what he was doing. “Scor, you alright?”

“Um, yeah.” He yawned, ignoring the fact that she shortened his name. It was a habit of Rose’s that he didn’t particularly like. “Just a little bit tired.”

She shook her head. “When was the last time you had some rest?”

“Uh… five days ago…”

Her eyes widened, lips parted, eyebrows creased. “Scor, you need sleep. Now.” She checked her watch. “Okay, the library closes in five hours. That’s enough time for a nap.” She touched his back, cautious, resting her palm. When that garnered no reaction, she began rubbing his back.

“No, Dom,” he mumbled, his eyelids beginning to close. “I… have to… study…”

“You need some sleep,” the blonde whispered. She grinned in satisfaction as his eyes remained firmly shut and his breathing grew heavy. As he slept, she snuck through his satchel and read some of the numerous Charms essays he had stacked inside, making meticulous notes.

/

Scorpius woke up to darkness, stifling darkness that made him on edge. He’d never done well with being in confined spaces, that being his Boggart when he tackled them in Third Year. He realised it must be after curfew by the fact that he could barely see himself, and that he’d been out much longer than he thought he would be. He muttered curses under his breath, wondering how he could possibly get out of the library when it was locked from the inside, and with pretty much nobody to help him he was practically –

“Calm down, tomorrow’s a weekend,” someone hissed in his ear. The blond jumped, before light appeared and he could see that it was Dominique.

 _“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?”_  he hissed,  _“WE’RE LOCKED IN THE LIBRARY AFTER CURFEW. I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!”_  A question tugged at his mind. “Wait, how on earth did Madam Pince not catch us?”

“I borrowed a little something from Al that kept us hidden.” The Slytherin sensed a smirk from the Ravenclaw’s end, and swore to Merlin that she should’ve been his housemate. “Don’t worry. We can just spend the night crawling through the Restricted Section.” She began stroking her chin, “One must wonder what lies in those tomes, rich as the Forbidden Fruit that grows in the Garden of Eden. Could it be the secret to immortality? The Darkest Art that must never be named? Or is it aphrodisiac spells so powerful it actually fosters true love, the kind that Cupid has wet dreams about?”

“Funny,” Scorpius deadpanned. “Who knew you were such a rebel, Dominique Weasley? And a well-versed one at that?”

“Like you said, I’m a Weasley, as in Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. Subtle rebellion is in my blood.” She shed whatever she’d been covering them with – Scorpius deduced it was some kind of cloak – and tied it around her neck. She kept her wand close to her, clutching Scorpius’s wrist. The physical contact startled him somewhat, but then he remembered it was pitch black without her wand and should anything happen, she probably needed reinforcement.

They bumped into the bookshelves and went into several wrong aisles (curse the library for being so huge) before they found the section that they were looking for. Even in the dim light, Scorpius could feel the weight of the wooden sign hanging above them, daring them to go inside and suffer the consequences. He felt his body being tugged inside, feeling the glare of Dominique’s impish grin.

“I knew the rumours about this were true,” she whispered, sighing to explain when she saw Scorpius’s bewildered expression. “Oh – apparently everyone used to sneak in here at night and somehow got in through all of Pince’s defences, so at some point she gave up and this is free game.”

Dominique finally let go of Scorpius’s hand, using her wand to look at the volumes that were in front of her. Some of the books seemed familiar to the Slytherin, having seen them in the Malfoy library, but others seemed a bit fanciful for his taste.  _Ancient Art of Necromancy. Horcruxes: What, Why & How. Love Tricks That Can Make Your Heart Go Boom – Literally!_

“What exactly are we doing around here?” the blond whispered, picking up one of the books from the shelf. He opened it, a loud roar coming from its pages. Startled, he dropped the book on the floor, lacking the courage to touch it again. From his side, he could hear his companion mumble a quick  _Silencio_ , shutting the book closed, and putting it back in its place on the shelf.

“Thanks,” he said, the blonde shrugging her shoulders in reply.

“Just don’t touch any of the books again, and we’re good.” She led them into a dead end of an aisle, sitting down and crossing her legs as a smirk lit up her features. “Truth or dare?”

He definitely chose not to forget this night.

/

Sixth Year rolled about, with it bringing Scorpius the responsibilities of being Quidditch Captain and the reputation of being Slytherin’s Sex God.

Dominique could not have cared less for the blond despite their one night in the library. It would’ve been more interesting if alcohol had been involved, but she wasn’t the best at holding it: something she was sure the Slytherin would take advantage of one day.

Her dirty blonde waves lay on her shoulder, her blue eyes searching for Lily’s silhouette in the Slytherin vs Ravenclaw Quidditch match. The winter this year had been ridiculously cold, proven by the fact that her usual blue-black ensemble designed to ward off icy Scandinavian weather doing absolutely nothing to shield her from these sub-zero temperatures. She wondered if any of the players were affected. She realised that they were moving so much they probably felt too hot in their Quidditch gear.

“RAVENCLAW! RAVENCLAW!” she chanted, along with her other housemates. Lorcan grinned when he saw Lily catch the Quaffle, zooming through the air and throwing it into one of the hoops. Nott, the Slytherin Keeper, narrowly missed it. This gave the Ravenclaw team a thirty-point lead, and a rapturous cheer broke amongst all the students clad in blue.

“POTTER IS OUR SAVIOUR! POTTER IS OUR QUEEN! POTTER IS OUR SAVIOUR!  _POTTER IS OUR QUEEN!”_

Before the chants could last too long, however, the players were ready to begin again. “Looks like the Ravens are on fire today, folks!” Nia Jordan announced, inheriting her father’s ability for commentating, “aaaand here we go… oh my, oh my! It appears we’ve spoken too soon. The Quaffle’s with Malfoy now – oh my, look at that Nimbus  _go!_  But let’s not forget the appearance of his arse last year when – “

“Miss Jordan!”

“Right. Sorry, Professor. Ah look, it’s been passed to Zabini, then Malfoy, then Zabini again! Is this some sort of mimicry of passing tactics used in football? Well, it’s not throwing Potter off. Scamander – Lysander specifically – is riiiiiiight behind her. Oh, oh they’re approaching the hoops now… oh, Slytherin just scored, leaving the score 100 – 120.”

A song broke out in the Slytherin stands this time, and Lorcan had turned positively red with anger. Before Dominique could whisper any words to come in, she noticed Scorpius swooping by the stands. She looked up, only to find him winking straight at her – she swore it! – flying quickly away.

Her cheeks turned a very interesting shade of rouge as her housemates hounded her.

“Oooh, you’re next, Dom.”

“He totally wants to shag you.”

The blonde had had sex before, losing her virginity to Niall Finnigan last summer before they broke up over their lack of chemistry. Otherwise her sexual encounters had remained very low profile: once with Zabini, though they were drunk and promised the other not to speak of it ever again, and several times with close friend Frank Longbottom, but it had been more along the lines of teaching each other how guys and girls responded to each other in general (more for  _his_  sake, really) and discovering the science behind  _la petite mort._ She wasn’t used to shagging someone once or twice and being discarded like a piece of rotten food, which was what Scorpius was known for.

Needless to say, she would not be ready for whatever the blond was going to put her through this time. Last time they had spared more than a glance at each other, it was that night at the library when they had bared themselves – literally and figuratively – though it was more curiosity than anything else.

Maybe he had latched on to it like she had, simply wanting to dissolve whatever lust or emotion he had from that night so he can move on. She didn’t mind that, shagging him once, but she did worry about the feelings Rose would have about the matter, still bitter about their break-up years prior. It was a tad unhealthy for the Gryffindor to be so angry, Dominique thought, but she supposed that she still harboured some sort of despondency over Niall’s rejection, so she shouldn’t be judging.

After the game ended – Macmillan had caught the Snitch for Ravenclaw – Dominique saw Rose scurrying in her direction, raising a brow. “I heard that Malfoy did the Celebratory Wink at you,” she said, her tone level. The blonde knew with a stray glance at her features that she was a little angry, maybe somewhat curious. “Are you… are you going to take him up on the offer?”

“I’m going to have to think it over,” the blonde replied.

“You don’t have a lot of time to think it over, from what I hear,” Rose reminded her cousin, “but remember that if you take up the offer and he does you any wrong, we’re all here for you, Dom.” The Gryffindor gave her cousin a warm smile before rushing to join her friends, disappearing into the crowd.

Before Dominique had any time to herself, she could feel the Slytherin’s smirk tailing her as she climbed the stairs. She found her way to a section of the castle that she was sure would remain quiet despite all of Hogwarts running amok, and just as she expected, the blond continued to follow her.

“You know, Dominique,” Scorpius began, his smirk still mischievous, “it’s so odd how everyone looks at everything I do with some expectation that it was meant sexually. Even you seemed to fall for it.” His pupils dilated as she refused eye contact with him. “What the actual – you’re my friend. I don’t shag my friends.”

Her tomato red face disappeared when she burst into peals of laughter, positively howling. “Calm down, Scor, of course I didn’t believe it. Rose even went so far as to say that if shit happens to me, she’ll bust your balls.”

His jaw dropped. “Did Rose Weasley actually use the phrase ‘bust your balls?’”

“No, we both know she’s not crude enough for that.” She waited. “Well, you winked at me, so we might as well give them the show they deserve, those bored little shits. I don’t mean actually shagging, but you don’t have to see people shagging to get the general gist of it.”

Scorpius’s eyes glittered with impishness. “Are you saying that you, Dominique ‘who studies the art of coitus for fun’ Weasley, actually want to tangle yourself with the likes of me, Scorpius Sex God Malfoy?” He shed a dramatic tear. “It looks like the world is coming to an end soon.”

Scoffing, the Ravenclaw rolled her eyes. “Oh, shush. Meet me outside the Ravenclaw Common Room later at about one. We have to come in making out, and then we’ll just hide in my bed with the curtains closed and pretend to go at it. When we’ve convinced everyone enough, we can just turn it into a free sleepover.”

The both of them finally agreed to the plan before leaving to their respective cliques.

/

Scorpius didn’t like to elaborate to anyone about the reason he winked at a girl, other than the fact that they found him attractive. The reason being that their name was chosen with the flip of a coin, a game of Bingo, a wheel of fortune. Unbeknownst to others, he often stopped shagging someone because the other person wanted him to stop. He never raped them, never touched them without consent; they always wanted something  _more_ , something deep, and he always got the feeling that his bank account swayed them to think that way.

With Dominique, it was an entirely different story. The Slytherin did not live in the world of fantasy and often mocked others who did, but somewhere in his yearlong clandestine correspondence with the witch, he did develop some odd attachment to her and began liking her for the woman she became, not just her body. He’d almost mapped it out and gotten off to the thought of his highest dreams: to have her like him in that manner back, for her to want to kiss him and touch him the way he always dreamed. She would not just be any girl: she would be the last.

When she draped something over him as he hid, he remembered it as the cloak she draped over them last year. It was the same heavy, velvety material. She turned to face him, pressing a finger to her lips; he did not need to be told twice. She quickly led him to the Common Room – the answer to the riddle was knowledge, ha ha – and took the cloak off his head, wrapping it about his shoulders.

“Do I get to kiss you now?” Scorpius asked roguishly, waggling his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes. “Never knew you could be such a gentleman, Scor.”

“Actually, I’m being a decent person. I’m a wannabe Casanova, not a rapist.”

Dominique giggled, mumbling something incoherent before closing the distance between their faces. She was gentle at first, testing the waters, Scorpius the same. But something broke in the both of them and all hell broke loose, turning their gentle kiss to something more volatile as he slipped his tongue between her lips.

The blonde tried to turn them in the direction of the staircase, breaking their kiss to gallop before the stairs could turn into a slide and counters their balance. Once she was sure that they were in the clear, she pressed her lips towards his again, her arm slowly wrapping around her body as they walked in tandem, trying to find her dorm room. She turned the dorm room once she remembered, causing her and Scorpius to stumble onto the floor.

“Oh fuck!” Scorpius lifted himself off of the blonde. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Her only reply was a giggle as she stood up and started kissing him again. There was no denying the fact that just as Scorpius imagined, Dominique Weasley was one of the best kisses he’s ever had. He wrapped both of his arms around her tiny waist, lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. As eloquently as he could, he carried her to her bed – the one closest to the window, of course – and laid her down on her mattress as he closed the curtains behind her.

“Ready to jump?” Scorpius hinted, patting her bed.

To the surprise of both of them, she shook her head. “I think… I think I want this to go a little further.” She shed the Invisibility Cloak from his back, her hands running up his chest, gripping his shoulders and pushing him down on top of her.

Instead of going for her lips, Scorpius instead began trailing kisses on her cheek, her earlobe – where she ended up laughing – down her jaw, her neck. When she gasped at the spot where her neck met her shoulders, he sucked on the spot a little. Her back arched to meet his chest, and her hands that were sill gripping his shoulders, managed to topple their balance so that she was straddling him.

When she was on top, she looked down at the landscape painted before her. She shook her head. “No, no, I can’t do this, Scor… I can’t pretend to shag you when neither of us really want to.” Her whisper slowly turned into an expression of pure melancholy. “Oh Merlin, I’m sorry. I must’ve broken a real important streak of yours now, huh?”

Scorpius shook his head. “No, no you didn’t. Your comfort is much more important than mine.” He sat up, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. “It’s okay.”

They decided to stay in bed together, Scorpius hugging her from behind. He might have told her everything was okay, that it could be remedied with a good night’s sleep, but underneath the calm sea, there were earthquakes happening as his heart shattered, as silent tears stained his cheek. Like Zabini said, life was not an erotic love story: not every shag will lead to love, and not every love leads to a shag.

True to his thoughts, she was the last one.

/

He started dating Naomi McLaggen, a fellow Slytherin a year younger than him.

They lasted for two weeks before he found her in the middle of shagging the daylights out of Cassie Goyle. After this event, he grew decidedly cold, and in good timing too: NEWTs were in May, and he was not going to spend another moment of his time wasting it in someone else’s bed or trying to get into someone else’s bed; his future was at stake and he did not need any more distraction.

To his disbelief, no Weasley yelled after him after Dominique. Their friendship had ground to a halt, and Rose still glared at him (he’d be dead infinity times over if looks could kill) in the halls.

Sometimes he would pass her by in the halls, wondering what she thought of that last night. She had never spoken a word to him since, and now started hanging out with a few equally rebellious students. It was so odd to see her draping off Frank’s arm, and his face would glow green as his robes at the sight of them exchanging chaste pecks on the cheek. He’d told himself he wasn’t jealous, just nauseated at the constant PDA; his parents would avoid it as much as they could, to his relief.

He let his anger simmer for several months before she had come up to him, NEWTs having been done and dusted. “Hey Scor,” she’d said, having spied him sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard. “May I sit next to you?”

Scorpius didn’t remember nodding his head, but she sat next to him anyway. When Frank walked past, Hannah Macmillan in hand, he smiled warmly at the Ravenclaw. She returned the gesture, adding a saucy wink. The blond frowned. What on earth had just happened?

“I’m so glad that Hannah and Frank finally got together after all these years,” Dominique sighed dreamily. “I knew that our ploy to act all lovey dovey would rile her up eventually.” She then pulled a disgusted face when she saw what the couple were doing behind the rose bushes. “Oh, that’s gross. I never knew either of them were into exhibitionism, but okay.”

“You shagged Longbottom for several years, Dom. How on earth did you not know?”

“We didn’t shag for the fun of it, Scor. We just went through the pages of a sex manual and found our preferences. It was about as scientific as casual sex gets.”

The blond rolled his eyes. “Hmm, and I heard you tapped Zabini, Finnigan, Thomas…”

“And who in this castle above Fifth Year  _haven’t_  you fucked, Malfoy?” Her voice cut like a cleaver cutting carcasses. “Why is it that you’re considered a sex symbol for shagging the same amount of people I do, and I get called a whore, a slut, and other worse things, or at least insinuated as such?”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Dom.”

“I’m sorry. Whatever way you did mean it for me didn’t quite get to me.” She closed her eyes. “And out of everyone in Hogwarts I  _did_  want to fuck, it had to be the one person who everyone else had, who I almost had. It’s not a mild spell of lust, either. It’s happened since that night in my dorm, where I find myself thinking of your lips on my neck, day in, day out. To think, to think it almost  _happened_.”

Her tears were a waterfall, steadily streaming down her face. She sniffled, trying to wipe them away. Scorpius did not speak for several minutes, letting his former friend shed her worries. He heard her mutter a quick drying charm before he could look at her, a smile on her blood red face.

“I love you, Scor.”

Almost all colour drained from his face, as if it made much of a difference. He opened his mouth only to close it again.  _Fuck_. “I… I love you too, Dom. I wanted to take you that night, I really did. You said no, so I retreated. That’s not your fault.”

“But you don’t love me anymore, do you? You don’t want me physically anymore.”

His heart was begging him to say the affirmative, telling him that it would save him years of trouble. It was no secret that he loved her laugh, her smile, her smart mouth and the fact that she immediately caught onto his references like nobody else. He loved her body too, but it did not redeem her of her flaws: her rebelliousness, her tempestuous nature that came and went in waves. He had spent months wondering what it was like for his hands to be on her legs, her stomach, what it would be like to hear her scream his name as she came undone.

But he also knew that as a result, he was not good enough for her. He could never really keep up with her ever-changing habits, moods, because he was about as transient as she was when it came to dispositions. That was fine when one was still a student and had time to deal with petty teenage angst, but after? What if they ran out of money or can’t decide what colour to paint their home or some other boring adult thing? She needed a person who could tether her to the harsh reality that was today’s society, reminding her of the small things that need doing. Not him.

“No,” he said, his heart immediately sinking to the bottom of his chest.  _Liar._

“I understand,” she replied. She noted the distance that had lessened between them, and she cleared her throat. “Is it too much if I ask you for one last kiss before we leave Hogwarts? It’s best to officially put this behind us.” Flushing, she realised how desperate she must’ve sounded. “Wait, are you still dating McLaggen?”

“No,” he said again, feeling as if he’d been struck dumb. He inched closer towards the blonde, cupping her face in his palm.  _She’s so beautiful,_  he thought, clenching his jaw. The dam of tears was beginning to break, prickling the back of his eyes. Without hesitating, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers.

There was no sense of urgency this time. He tried to remember how she tasted like Sugar Quills, how her hair felt like golden cashmere as it brushed his skin. He could feel how they were both trying to cling onto whatever this was, like climbers trying to claw onto thin ice as they sought after the summit of Mount Everest.

She broke apart first. “I’ll see you around.”

/

No matter what Scorpius’s actions dictated about the man, there was no doubt he was Slytherin to the very core. He was determined, he was ambitious, and through his family name he had connections that bypassed many conventions: he was a man that got what he wanted.

Over a series of owls with Al, the blond managed to find a date and time where the Weasley brood were at a public enough event to justify his presence. It was this date and time that kept him motivated in the summer to do himself in.

Looking at his state made Claudio Zabini somewhat amused. “You’re  _so_  whipped,” he snickered. There was a Silencing Charm on him for the remainder of the week, and no one could quite figure out who had cast it.

The function was the wedding of Teddy Lupin to Victoire Weasley, a relationship that had kept the Wizarding world on its toes – at least according to Astoria Malfoy. Scorpius was only invited by proxy; Andromeda had made amends to Narcissa right before the former died, which fostered a closer relationship between the latter and her grand-nephew. And where Narcissa went, Draco and his family followed.

Scorpius hung around Teddy’s room at first, offering him congratulations and asking him polite questions about his relationship with Victoire. After that was done, he decided to try and find his family in the crowd.

By Fate, he managed to bump into Dominique again. She was dressed in the typical bridesmaid dress: a sleeveless pale blue dress of fine silk that hugged her curves, and unfortunately, made it almost impossible for her to move. Her hair was all wrapped up in an elegant bun, and she adorned a pair of matching sapphire earrings. He raised a brow. “I’m going to bet ten Galleons you did not pick out this outfit,” he mumbled, hoping that he was not being too callous.

To his relief, she did not flinch away. “Of course I didn’t. This is the most awful shade of blue I’ve seen in my life. But you know Victoire.  _‘_ _C’est mon mariage! Il faut être parfait!’_  Mais tu ne dois pas être une chienne!” She was yelling by that point, mouthing a French expletive when she realised the amount of eyes on her. “Sorry, Scor, wedding nerves got to me and it’s not even  _my_  wedding.”

The blond sniggered. “You didn’t see the shit that went on when Mr. and Mrs. Zabini got married. Apparently, Aunt Pansy nearly murdered someone over a vase of flowers. I say that Victoire is acting pretty decently compared to her if her biggest sin is picking a shade of blue that doesn’t match your eyes.” He waggled his eyebrows, giving her a wink. “Want me to help you calm down a little after the reception?”

She raised a perfectly trimmed brow. “Hmm… maybe, if you apologise for breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. After that, I’ll reconsider.”

There was not much Scorpius could say. He did not stand there like a fool like the boy he was. He quickly gathered his wits and began to speak. “I partly, mostly, only came here for the reason that I could see you. I want to apologise for being a sexist git, and breaking your heart, and lying to you about wanting you even though it was written all over my face that I wanted to do horrible, sexual things to you.” He stepped closer towards her. “I’m not asking you to date me, Dom, because I understand if that’s too much, but I want to at least dance with you. Just one song, I promise. If you no longer want me to be part of your life, I’ll disappear.”

The blonde sighed, saying that she would think about it.

The wait for the dance was torturous, though there was no denying that whoever planned the wedding had done a marvellous job. When the couple shared a kiss, glitter erupted from little rigged boxes on the ceiling, bathing the audience with the stuff. Some took care of it quickly with a few Scourgifies, but others simply laughed, trying to taint their cleaner companions.

By the time that the dance came, Scorpius was beginning to forget about his offer until it poked him literally on the shoulder. He had been speaking to his mother at the time, so he had to turn around to face the object of his affection, covered exclusively in glitter that did, to his relief, match her eyes. Her grin was wide, revealing a straight row of teeth. “I knew you still fancied me a little, Malfoy,” she smirked, pulling him onto the dance floor where numerous couples were already dancing the evening away.

Somewhere in the middle, he forgot that he was in the middle of a crowd. When Dominique dipped gracefully in his arms, he leaned downwards, capturing her lips between his. She hummed into his mouth, trying to lift herself up so she could wrap her arms around him. They broke apart, both of them laughing impishly at what they just did.

“Fancying is a little bit light for what I feel for you, Dom,” he whispered into her ear, “I did let myself end up covered in this stupid glitter just so I can have some of your attention for a couple of minutes. I wouldn’t do that for my mother unless it was an extenuating circumstance.” He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulders. “I really, really love you, Dominique Weasley.”

He was greeted with a giggle. “I really, really love you too, Scorpius Malfoy.”

The evening melded slowly into night, warm, damp air cuddling their skin. Constellations continued to shine along with the glitter that was now plastered onto both their bodies.

Everything had come full circle, and Merlin, it felt  _perfect_.


End file.
